Hours before I left for my final drive south on I-95 (well, until Philip is in NJ for training next summer or we are stationed at McGuire some day. . . hahaha) I posted this message on fb. It tied the loose pieces of my feelings together as neatly as I could at the time. . .
451 days ago Philip left for Afghanistan. Today marks the day that we have been awaiting for a very, very long time. After 15 months of a geographically segmented and emotionally fragmented existence, my husband and I are going to be home. Together. For 12 precious months (until we get to do this all again). Today is the day I say goodbye to Princeton for the final time. I will never forget the sick, overwhelming feeling that I had in the pit of my stomach on the evening of May 13, 2013 as I watched Philip disappear through the gate at BWI through tear-filled eyes. As I sat there in the darkness of that night, nothing could have quite prepared me for what the next months would hold. I could have never predicted how my husband and I would be stretched and pressed professionally, psychologically, emotionally, and spiritually in the weeks and months that would unfold. The events we have witnessed and participated in have simeulatenously altered our existence while at the same time have made us more of who we are and who we always have been. In the last 451 days our lives have intersected with individuals who have touched our hearts deeply and impacted the way that we think about our life, our work, our family, and our faith. We've watched people die. We've watched people fight with every shred of their existence to grasp for meaning in and hold onto life. Each of these kinds of experiences will change you. Forever. My heart is filled with gratitude for the incredible opportunities that we have been afforded in this chapter of our life. Opportunities to grow, to love, to learn, to serve, and to give. It was a chapter marked with challenge and loss alongside of astonishing growth. I am filled with strong emotion as we prepare to turn these final pages. My heart is deeply grateful and very, very ready to be returning home.
My final days in Princeton were precious. I had spent the weekend in DC with Philip (he got home from 2 months in TX on Thursday night --- he thought I was coming home Friday but I surprised him by turning up at o'dark thirty late Thurs pm), and then returned to work for M, Tu, W. Monday night I turned over the keys to my apartment and spent the last couple of nights with one of my fellow predoc interns, Olivia. This girl has come to hold a very special place in my heart. My reflections in my final evening hours with her on Tuesday evening were this. . .
my last night in Princeton. so grateful i got to spend it with my sweet clementine, Olivia. I'm not sure what I would have done this year, the last 6 months in particular, sans this girl. I have met few people on this planet who exude warmth and joy quite like she does. I am going to miss so very much the beautiful music of listening to her animated Arabic conversations and laughter ringing through the air as I sit at my desk. Olivia, you know what it has been like to traverse the professional challenges of this year with the complexity of simultaneously holding that the people you love most in the world are living in a life-and-death existence on the other side of the planet. . . meanwhile the world around you marches on relatively carefree. You very much understand the internal battle of wrestling with both the privilege and exorbitant personal cost that has accompanied the pursuit of higher education. You've cried with me through some very dark moments the last 12 months. You have a deep, sensitive appreciation for the complexity and overwhelm of grief, loss, and trauma - you understand how these experiences gleed through the fabric of one's life and daily existence. You know the challenge and loneliness of feeling that there is a paucity of safe, protected, respected spaces for the nuances of one's politics within professional circles and the broader milieu of popular culture. Thank you for sparkling and shining so very brightly in my corner this year.
Olivia is a wonderful yoga date. This studio is steps away from her apartment. We couldn't stop laughing, however, when we were walking home that evening and a young gentlemen offered us a cigarette as we were leaving. Why yes, we are leaving a yoga class at 9:15 pm we must look like the kind of girls who are really interested in filling our lungs with carcinogens. #you'regoingtohavetodobetterthanthat
I was talking with Philip last night about how much I appreciate having come to a place in life where I can form a deep relationship and bond with someone whose personal experiences and the lens through which they see the and understand the world is very divergent from my own. The daughter of a politician in Lebanon, she arrived in the US at the age of 18 to attend Harvard (though she would never ever ever mention that detail in conversation. ever.). This girl is truly one of the brightest, most humble and compassionate individuals I have ever met. We shared many conversations about the complexity of existing in a world where people are overwhelmed by a sea of first world problems while having to constantly tolerate the reality that family members are living in imminent danger every.single.day. She got it. This girl grew up in a world where her father slept with a revolver under his pillow. She wasn't allowed to ride in the same vehicle with him throughout her childhood. She understood war. She understood grief and loss. And fear. And survivor's guilt. We unpacked the very emotionally loaded experience of privilege. When I needed someone to get it the most. She got it. And when she couldn't get it, she was willing just to be with me in it and made sure I never had to be alone. It's a relationship where we can suspend personal politics in a way that allows us to connect over our love of and desire to care deeply for people. We're just two girls who don't want to lose sight of or touch with humanity in a world where individual people and their stories can be blurred or lost in the reporting of numbers and statistics. It reminds me of a song that I love. . .
PICTURES OF TRAGEDY
When I see pictures of tragedy
Don't let it get old to me
When I see hunger and poverty
Don't let it get old to me
When I see pictures of tragedy
Don't let it get old to me.
Let my heart be broken
Give me eyes of compassion
Don't let me hunger diminish
But let me finish strong
I want to hear you say to me
Well Done
When I see hatred and jealousy
Don't let it get old to me
When I see shattered integrity
Don't let it get old to me
Let my heart be broken
Give me eyes of compassion
Don't let me hunger diminish
But let me finish strong
I want to hear you say to me
Well Done
Well Done good and faithful one
When I see pictures of tragedy
Don't let it get old to me
-Christie Northrup
We may be an unlikely pair.
But we are forever friends.
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